Books And Blades [Sigrun]

[Razkar]

Razkar's eyes sparkled when he saw that change come over her features. Ah, there was the female he remembered from the Pit. Focused, controlled and determined: everything a warrior needed to be. Keeping her face neutral was just another weapon, showing a firm front to the enemy and denying them any hint of what your intentions might be.

He raised his gladius and gave a tiny, tight smile

"Come."

She did, lunging forward with that curved, heavy blade, and Razkar's arm clanged along with his gladius when he intercepted it. That was another thing he had to deal with: the sheer force she could put behind her blows, despite being weaker than him, due to the make of that sword.

Before he could knock it away, she pushed forwards, pressing hard and his arm stiffened-

-until she exploded forwards, blades screeching and grinding together, knocking him straight back but with his gladius still up, wavering but-

-she reared back, ready for a follow-up, and then-

-nothing.

Razkar would have winced in sympathy for the blunder, but the S-word had no place here; not in his capacity as instructor. The blade wobbled out of her control and Razkar slashed out with his gladius, knocking the cutlass away-

-following up immediately with a short, sharp jab to her chest from his left-

-now wrapped in his knuckleduster.

The human staggered backwards with a yelp, almost double over as the cruel brawler's mitt knocked the air from her. She slashed wildly in front of her, perhaps anticipating Razkar to press his advantage-

-but he did not. The Myrian stood his ground and watched calmly, waiting for her two right herself and breath some air back into her bruised chest.

"Good." He said simply, but held up a judicious finger. "Heavy blade good for power, and push can throw enemy off. But..." he stepped forwards, bringing up his blade, gesturing for her to do the same "... when blade clash like that..." cutlass and gladius clinked together, just like they did in combat a few moments before "... and you push-"

The Myrian did just that, putting his strength behind his blade and forcing the human back... but straight back, and he nodded slowly...

"See? Straight back, enemy still has balance. Going back, yes, but still steady. So, if push-"

His grip and stance alters slightly and instead of pushing back, he pushes to her left side, sending her half-spinning away, along with her cutlass.

"-push to side, kill enemy balance-"

His gladius broke contact and he stabbed out slowly, thrust stopping just before her exposed right side, then snapping back and slashing diagonally at her shoulder.

"-and go for stab or slash when enemy is not steady. Also, when so close-" he jerked his knees up, one after the other. "-hit low with feet or knees. Enemy is close, so probably hit. Now..."

Razkar stepped back again and settled back into his stance, waiting for her to be ready and then coming on again, slashing down at her, knowing the cutlass would intercept it-

-steel clanged on iron-

-but there was no grinding, no pushing, almost no pressure-

-because the Myrian's gladius was already moving again the moment his move was blocked-

"Speed!" He snapped as he slid to his side, gladius drawn back and slashing low to her pelvis, only for her spinning cutlass block it again, but it was already moving. "Not want to grind swords together! Make blade dull! Always keep moving-"

As his gladius was drawn back in his right, he pivoted his hips and slammed a left hook into her side, shuddering her with a yelp, cutlass slashing back at him-

-gladius blocking it again, knocking it away-

"Not attack in pain!" He said as he knocked the cutlass away but didn't move his gladius with it, immediately slashing down towards her chest the moment the larger blade was out the way. "In pain? Lose balance? Move away. Not like knight who sneer at running. Sometimes must run away to win later."

He stepped back again and went through the same motions with his gladius in front of her, a mirror of what he was doing before.

"See? When strike, whether block or hit, keep moving. And last hit?"

Razkar demonstrated again, playing out the blocking of her cutlass and the chop that came immediately afterwards.

"Whole point of block, real block, is to open enemy. Moment she is open, strike. Kill enemy fast. There are always more..."

The Myrian shifted back into his defensive stance and within mere moments, he noticed with approval, Sigrun was ready again, that steady gleam in her eyes.

"Come."

[Sigrun Dominic]

Nothing, indeed.

Her blade spun around like a crooked pinwheel, effectively slashing at the air and not at her opponment. The blunder caused Sigrun to lose herself in a stroke of embarrassment. Before she could retract her blade and undo her mistake, Razkar recovered and slashed his gladius in front of her, knocking her blade to the side, giving him room to punch her straight at the center of her chest.

Which he did.

Fear exploded inside the young blonde, filling her with yet another rush of adrenaline as she staggered backwards, a pained expression overwhelming her features as she made an attempt to retaliate by repeatedly slashing her blade forward, only to once again hit nothing. Razkar was too far away.

She could feel her chest throbbing, her blood rushing towards the afflicted area like a swarm of flies to a lit candle. Sigrun could already feel the beginnings of a bruise there. She looked down at her chest and peeked into her thin clothing, her lips parting at the horrifically red marks left by his knuckleduster’s metal studs.

"Good,” the warrior said, holding up a finger. Sigrun quickly looked back up, struggling slightly with her breathing.

"Heavy blade good for power, and push can throw enemy off. But..."

Razkar took a step forward, his blade raised in the air. With his free hand, he gestured for the girl to follow suit, which she did so albeit reluctantly.

"... when blade clash like that..." he placed their blades against each other, "... and you push-"

He did as he stated. Sigrun pursed her lips as she attempted to do the same, managing to equal his efforts and maintain her balance despite being pushed backwards quite a bit.

"See? Straight back, enemy still has balance. Going back, yes, but still steady. So, if push-"

This time, Razkar changed his grip and his stance. Sigrun observed his footing and the change in his hold carefully, eyeing the shift in footing and placement of his hands. As the Myrian demonstrated how the new stance worked by pushing her backwards, Sigrun understood.

The thrust spun her to the side, making her lose her footwork and her awareness-

-Until her instincts caused her eyes to quickly move towards the warrior’s gladius, which immediately made a stab at her unguarded right hip, and then a diagonal slash over at her shoulder.

The young blonde exhaled heavily upon realizing that it was all just a demonstration.

"-and go for stab or slash when enemy is not steady. Also, when so close-" Razkar raised his knees, one after the other, "-hit low with feet or knees. Enemy is close, so probably hit. Now..."


Sigrun resumed her fighting stance, just as Razkar did. As the Myrian lunged forward, so did she, and as he attempted a slash at her, she managed to block the attack with her cutlass-

-Only for their clash to last a moment’s time as the warrior quickly removed his gladius and made for another attack.

"Speed!" he barked, aiming another slash somewhere along her pelvis, Sigrun furrowed her brows, the intensity of their duel finally taking effect as she managed to block his attack once more.

"Not want to grind swords together! Make blade dull! Always keep moving-"

Razkar moved his gladius away, leading the young blonde to assume the opposite of what he had planned. As she prepared to defend against another slash, she instead found herself plagued by another sharp punch to her side. Crying out in pain, she immediately slashed at the air in a flash of frustration, only for it to be blocked.

"Not attack in pain!" the warrior bumped her cutlass at the side and then made a slash at her aching chest, "in pain? Lose balance? Move away. Not like knight who sneer at running. Sometimes must run away to win later."

"Must run away," she committed his words to memory, "to win later."

The warrior stepped away from her and then proceeded to mimmick her prior attacks. Sigrun watched intently, her eyes following the iron blade, taking note of how much her movements were different from Razkar’s; they lacked speed, direction, and fluidity. Those two things seemed to be extremely integral in fighting.

"See? When strike, whether block or hit, keep moving. And last hit?" Razkar made another demonstration, orchestrating a block and then executing a cutting motion right afterwards.

"Whole point of block, real block, is to open enemy. Moment she is open, strike. Kill enemy fast. There are always more..."

"Block is to open enemy," she repeated silently.

Razkar took one another step backwards, resuming his defensive stance as he gazed at her expectantly. One of the greatest things about his methods of teaching was that his movements, his expressions, his choice of words and the way he says them, were all completely and utterly constructive. He was not condescending, he was not arrogant, he was simply a teacher, with no goal other than to teach. The warriors destroy nothing but the doubts, imperfections, and flaws of his students, replacing them instead with the skill, focus, and bravery that was integral in the art of combat.

"Come," he said.

That single word was enough to give the girl the drive to succeed, and the inspiration to do better and to be better. It opened all the doors for her. That single word was what told her, with all the simplicity of a one-liner, that there was a way to advance and that it was possible for her to achieve it.

Focus flooded into her eyes, drowning every single sliver of doubt that she’d had in herself. This time, there should be no more pauses, and no more lingering moments where she was allowing herself to be overtaken. At the very least, the mistakes must now be new. She assumed the proper stance and, after a quick inspection of her opponent, dove right in.

Running forward, she made a slash for his torso, expecting him to counter it with a slash of his own-

-which she avoided by quickly moving her cutlass away, holding it diagonally across her body, only for a moment before making a jab for his stomach-

-coupled by a sharp jerk of her left leg, a feint; pretending to tuck her foot behind his leg in order to trip him-

-and attempted to use this distraction to her advantage by making another slash for his right shoulder, followed by a quick, fierce jab upon his right one.

[Razkar]

Razkar was not new to being an instructor; he was merely used to being on in a far different location. But he understood in the jungle as he did in that field outside Syliras, that even the finest teacher will fail if the student is lacking, like a brilliant artist with shoddy materials.

He was blessed that day to have a student who listened, who learned and he made that knowledge and that wisdom real.

Sigrun studied him, and then she came on like a warrior: without fear, but with her wits.

The blow to his shoulder was too broad, too obvious to be real, but his gladius went up anyway, left hand cocked low to his side to punish her again-

-but metal never met metal, her cutlass jrking back across her chest, not giving him a clear blow-

Razkar hesitated, trying to rethink the-

-and her gauntlet-encased hand, further protected by her weapon's hand guard, smashed into his stomach.

The Myrian grunted in surprise and took a step back, guts momentarily rearranged and screaming before his adrenaline numbed them. He felt the gnosis at his neck burning suddenly, the prospect of a real opponent, a real enemy making it flare into life-

Not here, he reminded himself, not in this place.

He slashed diagonally down with his gladius, knocking away her cutlass, ready to straighten it into a thrust-

-but she was moving already, to his side, left leg snaking behind his, going for a-

No, a feint!

Razkar realized too late, gladius barely blocked the backhand slash to his shoulder-

-but not the blow to his shoulder, gauntlet lending such power to the blow, spinning him in front of her-

-but he went with it, spinning as if hit with a blow to the jaw, dropping down to a knee as he went with her strike, until his back was to her, his side-

-his left elbow hammering into her stomach, doubling her over-

-flat of his gladius slapping hard into her shin, body tensing to explode upwards to slam a knee or even the top of his head into her torso-

Sigrun never gave him the chance, half-jumping, half-sliding backwards, her pain showing through her clenched teeth and sweating brow... but nowhere else. Her guard was back up and she was out of range, ready... steady... focused.

Run away to win later...

"Very good." He said, practically glowing with pride at his student. "But see what happen? I went with you blow. Where you hit? Span in direction of you punch..."

He demonstrated again, spinning around and dropping as he spun, left elbow cocked out, just like it did when it slammed into her torso... but then his movements became something else. He rose to his feet, dueling an invisble enemy... and Sigrun frowned.

The Myrian was not winning. He was blocking, swaying, bareling hanging on... but his blade and hand did not stop moving. Every swing and slash was but the birth of another, an endless cycle... and Razkar smiled, as if her thoughts were floating above her head.

"Battle... is chaos." He said quietly, almost reverently, as if repeating some sacred mantra as his blade flashed through the high sun. "Battle... is like water. Always change. Chang to fit thing it is in. So every move... every strike and stroke... every time you swing blade... whether you make good hit or make bad one... make one move... into another."

Razkar finished with a combination to make his point: a flashing side-to-side block from attackers at both sides, changing into a thrust at one, a sidestep changing the blow into a low slash, severing a hamstring or the artery in the thight, changing into a horizontal block, changing into a knee to the groin and a sharp vertical slash, changing... changing...

"Always move. Always change." He said with a faint smile, seeming to Sigrun like he was reminding himself as much as teaching her. "That is one secret. I tell another..." his eyes flashed to hers and he gave her a wink that had more to do with respect that lasciviousness "... after rest."

Razkar sheathed his blade and gave her a short bow, but did not take his eyes off her. Only fools did so, and within a moment he was marching through the thick summer grass to the shade of the tree, where Mrrko had been watching this all with the world-weary half-interest of horses the multiverse over.

"Cannot work all time," Razkar said, resting his back against the tree and taking a deep swing from his water skin, then offering it to Sigrun, "And other thing, you wish to learn of my people. So... I tell. But I ask of yours, yes?"

[Perplexity]

Riddled With Rewards Razkar Experience Skill XP Earned Rhetoric + 1 EXP Socialization + 1 EXP Mercantilism +1 EXP Tactics +2 EXP Storytelling +1 EXP Teaching +2 EXP Lores • Lore Earned • Reading Common, Laborious Task • Children of Myri: As Varied As They Come • Siege Tactics: The Defenses of Syliras Main Gate • Incomprehensible Ideology, Glory Unto Myri • Teaching: Properly Conveying Instructions • Fighting Tactics: Knightly Honor, Commoner Desperation Sigrun Dominic Experience Skill XP Earned Bartering + 2 EXP Socialization + 2 EXP Observation + 2 EXP Interrogation + 1 EXP Weapon: Cutlass +2 EXP Brawling +1 EXP Tactics +1 EXP Lores • Lore Earned • Gauntlet Size: What’s the right fit? • Knuckleduster: Vicious Weapon • On the Duties of a Knight, Boring • Cultural Staple: How Myrians Are Raised • Fancy Footwork: The Importance of a Strong Stance • Cutlass: Using the Blade as a defensive aid • Battle Plan: We must fight!....To run away! Notes : I gave what I could Mr. Razkar, to you as well Ms. Sigrun.